


Rainy Nights in October

by CigaleDesNeiges



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Harry Potter, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Memories, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CigaleDesNeiges/pseuds/CigaleDesNeiges
Summary: Remus remembers James and Lily, and thinks about Sirius.Two autumn evenings, 14 years apart, at Grimmauld Place.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Rainy Nights in October

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitteringvoid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringvoid/gifts).



> Because you wrote me a birthday fic and I was so touched, I wanted to do the same! 
> 
> Thank you for the fic, the chats, the always fascinating discussions, the shared anger, the reassurances and validation, the brainstorming and the writing, and just for being you! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little fic, which is not as upbeat as I wanted it to be (surprise surprise), but also not as bad as the tags make it seem! (I promise!) In my mind, it takes place on your birthday.
> 
> Happy birthday! ❤️️
> 
> And for anyone else who's found their way here: thanks for reading and I hope you like it!

The last time Remus saw James and Lily was an evening just like this one. It was mid October, the nights were lengthening, the days were dreary and grey.

It had been raining for a week straight, Remus remembers. Outside, the fallen leaves had long lost their crunch, and children had long grown bored of jumping in puddles.

A basement window had started leaking earlier that day, and Kreacher was fighting with the ancient charm work on the house, trying to repair it. He was muttering to himself something about “useless scum, can’t even keep the rain out, nasty little blood traitors”.

But the living room was warm and dry. The rain was tapping softly against the windows and the fire in the hearth was bathing the room in a gentle light.

Grimmauld Place was a happier place, then, despite Kreacher’s best efforts. It felt less like a prison and more like a welcome protection against the danger lurking outside. 

The Order of the Phoenix had just received information about an upcoming Death Eater attack against a muggle festival outside of London, and was meeting to prepare a counterattack. 

The arrival of the Potters, earlier that day, had cheered everyone up. They had been in hiding for weeks and it was always reassuring to see them safe and sound at Grimmauld Place. Lily always brought with her kindness and biscuits, and James always came with jokes, good humour and endless enthusiasm. 

Harry had turned one a couple of months earlier, and was a small bundle of boundless energy, nonsensical babble and childish accidental magic. Earlier that evening, he had attempted to climb on the coffee table and fallen into an inconsolable heap on the floor. He was giggling soon after, Lily bouncing him on her knees. Snape had recently joined the Order and Harry had immediately disliked him, to James’ and Sirius’ delight. That evening, when Sirius had sat down beside Lily, Harry had started crying and the left half of Snape’s hair had immediately turned bright pink. Sirius had had to leave the meeting briefly in a fit of laughter.

With all the people he cared about in one place, insulated from the cold and the rain, Remus had felt hopeful.

Remus and Sirius were happy, then. It wasn’t always easy: Sirius was too accustomed to expecting conflict from those he loved, and Remus was too accustomed to being in conflict with himself. Remus was a little too cold and Sirius a little too sharp. Neither knew how to handle being loved. But when Sirius laughed, Remus forgot to be afraid. 

The war was a constant and ominous backdrop, but despite it, they had built something of their own. Their love was a cautious but joyful thing, making Sirius a little more steady and Remus a little more carefree. They found space for each other in all those quiet moments between apprehension and action, when all they could do was be still, be patient, and be there for one another. 

After the meeting, Lily and James had taken Harry back to Godric's Hollow, the rest of the Order had dispersed, and a shadow had seemed to fall on Grimmauld Place. All at once, the temperature had dropped, the fire had died down, and humidity and unease had seeped into every corner. The rain suddenly seemed threatening and the leak Kreacher had eventually managed to fix had sprouted up once more. The only warmth left was the embers in the fireplace, shining bright in the dark living room.

Remus and Sirius had returned to their shared room on the third floor, and Sirius had pushed Remus down on the bed and kissed him, urgent and desperate, like he knew time was running out. Time was always in danger of running out, Remus supposed, but some nights the war felt closer, claustrophobic and heavy, closing in on them. That night was like that.

* * *

Two weeks later, James and Lily were killed. 

When Remus heard about James and Lily, his stomach dropped, and then it felt like the ground did, too. On some level, he had expected it, but that wasn’t the same as accepting it. He hadn’t quite understood what hope felt like until it was gone. 

It took Remus a moment to realize that their death also meant that Sirius had betrayed them. That shocked grief made his world feel faded and dull, and it stayed that way for a long time: shades of grey, muffled sounds, a fog he couldn’t seem to shake. His thoughts were slow and hazy, breathing seemed like too much effort, he couldn’t seem to get his body to cooperate. It was like having a Dementor for constant company, and no happy memories to make a Patronus.

He didn’t let himself think about the fact that Sirius _did_ have Dementors for constant company. It was, after all, what he deserved. Wasn’t it?

It took months, maybe years, a lifetime of dreary October days, but eventually time started to work its magic. The fog started to lift. Colour returned to Remus’ days in occasional and then frequent bursts. He found himself singing melodies he had long forgotten, finding energy for activities he had once enjoyed, making time for friends he had abandoned.

It helped, eventually, to see 13-year-old Harry at Hogwarts, with Lily’s eyes and James’ hair, and to know that their sacrifice had not been in vain.

* * *

The last time Remus saw James and Lily was 14 years ago, on an evening just like this one, October rain gentle on the roof, fogged up windows, fire in the hearth. 

In a bedroom on the second floor of Grimmauld Place, Remus is working on a summary from today’s Order meeting. There’s a photo of James and Lily on his desk, laughing and waving, and seeing it always makes him smile.

There’s no need for a photo of Sirius, and for that, Remus is grateful.

Time hasn’t always been gentle: Kreacher has only gotten more bitter, Walburga’s portrait has only gotten louder. Grimmauld Place is still a necessary shelter from the war, but it feels more confining than it did all those years ago.

The third floor of Grimmauld Place is empty, now, an unintentional memorial to the lives lost in the first war. 

But the Order of the Phoenix has never given up. They have a younger generation to think about now, children and godchildren, nieces and nephews, and the responsibility weighs on each of them.

Harry is fifteen, still held hostage to this bloody war. But when Remus sees him, with Lily’s courage and morals, with James’ perseverance and quick temper, he is certain they will get through this.

Remus is almost finished writing when the door to the bedroom opens and Sirius walks in.

Time hasn’t been gentle with Sirius, either, and Azkaban has left its mark. His hair is a little greyer, his face is a little softer. But he’s still here, healthy and whole. His smile still stops time, and his laugh still has the power to make Remus forget.

Sirius gives Remus a quick kiss on the forehead and obnoxiously ruffles his hair in lieu of hello. The quick touch is not enough, it's never enough. Remus always wants more, and this time, he isn’t letting it go.


End file.
